Five Times Emmett Didn't Meet Elle
by earwig
Summary: Other ways they might have met...
1. Chapter 1

TITLE: Five Times Emmett Didn't Meet Elle  
AUTHOR: earwig  
PAIRING: Emmett/Elle, with mentions of Elle/Warner and Warner/Vivienne  
RATING: PG-13  
SUMMARY: What if Elle hadn't ended up at Harvard Law…  
DISCLAIMER: The characters of the Legally Blonde: The Musical belong to their owner. No copyright infringement intended.  
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thanks to normative_jean for reading this first.

**Part 1: What You Want**

She was beautiful.

That was the first thing Emmett thought when he saw her walking through the maze of hallways in Houser.

The second was that she had to be horribly lost.

The intent way she read the number on each door was a dead giveaway, but what struck Emmett most was how out of place she looked. The shine of her glossy blonde hair and brightness of the pink dress she wore stood in sharp contrast to the dark woods of the hall and the muted colors everyone else wore. Everything about her screamed "I do not belong."

He had just decided to be the gentleman his mother's boyfriends had not taught him to be, and offer her directions, when she approached him instead.

"Hello," she said. "I'm a little lost, and you seem to know your way around. Do you think you could point me in the right direction?"

Emmett smiled. "Of course. I was just about to offer to help anyway. Where are you supposed to be?"

She laughed, a high, lilting sound. "Was it that obvious?" She extended a hand. "I'm Elle Woods, by the way."

He shook her hand. "Emmett Forrest." Relinquishing her hand, he continued, "It's not that it was obvious, you just don't blend into the normal Harvard crowd." He tucked his hands into his pockets. "So what can I help you find?"

"I'm looking for Criminal Law with Professor Callahan," Elle said. "Do you know where that meets?"

Emmett studied her quizzically. "I do. I'm the teaching assistant for the course." He paused. Slowly, he asked, "You're not a new student are you?"

Elle laughed again. "Me, a law student?" She shook her head slightly. "No, my fiancé Warner is a student, and I'm supposed to meet him for lunch."

"Oh," Emmett said, mentally scolding himself for not noticing the ring that sat prominently on her left hand. Careful to keep any signs of disappointment out of his voice, he offered, "I'm actually headed there now. Did you want to walk with me?"

Her face lit up. "That's so nice of you!"

He smiled back ruefully. "It's not a problem." Gesturing down the hall, he asked, "Shall we?"

She started walking in the direction he'd indicated and they fell into step together easily.

They were silent for a moment.

Emmett mentally cursed his inability to talk easily to beautiful women. He racked his brain to try to think of something, anything to say to the intriguing woman next to him. Finally, he turned his head toward her, and started, "So, how long have you…"

At the same time, she turned towards him and asked, "So do you like…"

They both laughed.

He gestured slightly, and said, "Go ahead."

She smiled. "I was just going to ask if you like being a teaching assistant. And what Professor Callahan is like."

Emmett smiled back. "Being a teaching assistant is alright. It helps pay the bills, and I'm really just waiting to be hired as an associate at a big law firm." He paused, considering the other part of her question. "Professor Callahan," he began slowly, "He's one of the toughest professors at the school. But he makes the students learn, so whatever it is he does, it works." He tilted his head toward her. "So should I ask you my question now?"

Her lilting laugh rang again. "Sure, go ahead," she said.

"How long have you been living here?" Emmett asked. "You can't be a native, not with that accent."

A smile broke out on her face. "Only for the last few months, actually," she explained. "Warner and I graduated from UCLA in May, and we moved out here so that I could look for a job before he started school. "She looked at him questioningly. "Do I stick out that much? That's the second time you've pointed out how different I am."

Emmett quickly rushed to explain. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend you." He gestured towards his own clothing. "I'm not exactly blending in myself, which is probably why I keep referring to you as different. It's not bad, believe me. I think different is good." He smiled. "But to answer your question, yes, you do stick out. Look around you. Everyone in the same dark colors, the same hair, the same blue blooded Boston accent. You just stand out."

Elle blushed slightly. "Thank you, I think." She looked down at her pointy toed shoes. Softly, she continued, "I'm trying to blend in better. Warner wants me to fit in with his friends, and we couldn't be more different."

Emmett frowned. "Why should you have to change? I mean, I don't know you, but you seem nice, you're a lively conversationalist, and you seem like you would be fun, so why should you need to change yourself to fit in with a bunch of rich snobs?"

She smiled gently. "Thank you for saying that." Her smile slid into a frown as she continued, "But being here, being with these people, that's what Warner wants. And since I want Warner, I'm just going to have to adapt." She shrugged her shoulders helplessly. "What else am I supposed to do?"

As they drew up to the door, Emmett asked, "Want a nickel's worth of free advice from a virtual stranger?"

They drew to a halt outside the classroom. Elle turned to look at him. "Sure, why not?"

Looking her straight in the eye, he said, "Don't forget about what you want. There must be something more than Warner. That should matter just as much."

They stared at each other for a long, silent moment.

The silence was broken by the rush of students filing out of the classroom. Elle began searching the crowd for the sight of the Warner. Spotting him, a wide smile broke out, and she waved her arm wildly through the air, calling out, "Warner!"

Warner broke off from the crowd of students he was with, and walked over to join Elle. When he reached them, he wrapped an arm around Elle, and leaned down to kiss her, slightly too intensely for public consumption.

Emmett looked down, shuffling his feet, and coughed discreetly.

When they broke apart, Warner turned to face Emmett. Keeping one arm wrapped around Elle's shoulders, he extended the other towards Emmett. "Warner Huntington the Third, and you are?"

Emmett shook his hand briefly. "Emmett Forrest. I'm your TA for this class; we met the first day?"

Nodding in recognition, Warner said, "Oh, I knew I recognized you." Leaning his head Elle's direction, and tightening the arm around her shoulders possessively, he asked, "So how do you know my Pooh Bear?"

Elle blushed, and answered, "He was just showing me the way to the classroom, Warner." She looked up at him expectantly. "Wasn't that nice of him?"

Warner smiled slightly at her. "Of course it was." Looking back at Emmett, he said, "I hope you'll excuse us, we need to meet some people for lunch." Starting to usher Elle away, he called back, "It was nice to meet you again Forrest…"

Elle didn't move. "Warner, I thought it was going to be just us." She said accusingly, her face tightening.

Warner adopted a pleading tone. "I'm sorry, Poor Bear, I forgot I promised my friends. You don't want to disappoint them, do you?"

Elle sighed. "Fine." She turned to Emmett. "It was very nice to meet you Emmett. Thanks for all your help." She smiled, and Warner starts ushering her away again. This time, she let him, but called back, "Maybe I'll see you again sometime."

Emmett watched them disappear into the crowd.

He sighs, and turns to try to find Callahan. He tries to put the thought of Elle, and the man he can already tell isn't good enough for her out of his head.

He needs to focus on his own life, his own goals, not whether or not all the vibrancy is going to smothered out of someone he doesn't even know.

Suddenly, a laugh rings out over the din of the crowd, and Emmett can tell instantly it belongs to Elle.

That's when he realizes it won't be quite so easy to forget.


	2. Chapter 2

**Part 2: Just Like The Kennedy's**

"Elle Huntington," his secretary announced, ushering his newest prospective client through the office door.

Emmett rose from behind the desk, crossing in front to shake her hand. "Emmett Forrest, Mrs. Huntington. It's nice to meet you."

She returned his handshake. "Elle, please."

He gestured towards one of the chairs in front of his desk. "Please, have a seat." Seating himself behind the desk once more, he asked, "Can I have Mary get you anything? Coffee, tea, water?"

"No, thank you," Elle answered, crossing her hands in her lap.

"Thanks, Mary, that'll be all then." Emmett dismissed the woman hovering in the doorway. "Hold my calls, and please close the door behind you."

Silently, the woman slipped out of the room, the sound of the door shutting the only trace of her presence.

Emmett turned to face the woman across from him. He knew who she was, of course. The wife of the newly elected senator from Massachusetts, she'd been all over the news for months. She, her husband, and their three children had seemed the very model of the perfect modern family.

Still, with her now sitting in his office, that had obviously been a carefully created image.

He studied her carefully for a moment. Though he knew her to be in her late thirties, he'd have put her age closer to thirty than forty, obviously through the gift of good genes and careful upkeep. Years of representing the wealthy had taught him the difference between that, and the artificial. Her blonde hair fell softly into a gently bob, framing her face. The black pinstriped suit she wore was carefully tailored, and she would have looked every inch the Boston society matron, if not for the fact that the pinstripe was a subtle pink, echoed in the shell she wore beneath her jacket. The ostentatious diamond rings on her left hand looked too big for her delicate hands, and they seemed to make her uncomfortable, as she twisted them back and forth on her finger.

"Do I have something in my teeth?"

The surprisingly wry voice startled Emmett back to alertness. He straightened in his chair. "I'm sorry, I was staring wasn't I?" He shook his head slightly. "You don't look like I expected you to, is all."

Elle arched an eyebrow. "And you did you expect me to look, Mr. Forrest?" Her voice betrayed her image as a Boston Brahmin. Despite her years in the east, the sound of southern California still lingered, giving her a unique tone.

He gestured slightly towards her. "During the campaign you were always wearing stuffy suits." Seeing her about to protest, he added quickly, "Stylish, but stuffy. The woman in those pictures wouldn't be wearing something like what you have on today."

A frown crossed her face. "Are we here to discuss my wardrobe or your legal services?" She asked tartly.

"I don't see why we can't do both, but I apologize for the commentary." He leaned back in his chair and folded his arms across his chest. "Now, why did you come to see me today Mrs. Huntington?"

She shifted uncomfortably, and didn't quite meet his eyes, as she answered, "I would have thought that was obvious, Mr. Forrest. And please, call me Elle."

Emmett smiled gently. "I think you'll find that it's best if I don't make any assumptions when it comes to legal matters, Elle." Again, he asked, "So why did you come see me today?"

"I suppose that makes sense," she murmured, seemingly to herself. She squared her shoulders, and looked him straight in the eye. "I've come to seek your advice on obtaining a divorce from my husband." Her voice was calm and collected as she spoke, the only outward indicators of how difficult the words she spoke were a flush to her cheeks and the continued worrying of her rings.

Inwardly, Emmett's respect for her grew every moment their meeting continued. He leaned forward to pick up a legal pad and pen. "May I take notes while we continue talking?" He asked. Seeing her nod of assent, he poised the pen over the pad. "How long have you been married?"

"Fourteen years."

He wrote that down. "You have three children, correct?"

Elle nodded.

"Names and ages?"

"Full names, or what we call them?"

Emmett smiled slightly, trying to reassure her. "How about both? And try to relax Elle, I'm going to make this as painless as possible, I promise."

She tried to smile back. "The oldest is Warner Booth IV, and we call him Booth. He's 10. Our daughter, Eleanor Vivienne or Evie, is 8. And John Woods is three. He goes by Jack."

"I remember seeing pictures of them during the campaign. You have beautiful children, Elle."

A genuine smile appeared on her face. "Thank you. They're the most important thing in the world to me."

"Can I assume you're going to want primary physical custody of the children, then?"

For the first time, a hint of amusement appeared in Elle's voice. "I thought you didn't make assumptions, Mr. Forrest."

Emmett laughed. "Touché. Please, call me Emmett, or I'll revert to calling you Mrs. Huntington," he gently teased. Turning more sober, he said, "I'll rephrase. Do you want primary physical custody of your children?"

"Alright, Emmett." She paused. "Primary custody of the children is the only thing that I really want out of this divorce."

He smiled. "Do you think that would be an issue? I mean, is the Senator going to fight you on that?"

Elle considered briefly. "I don't think so. Whatever Warner's flaws as a husband, he does want what is best for our children, and he has to realize his new job isn't going to be conducive to being a single father, no matter how good that might look to the voters."

"Good, I'm glad to hear it." Shifting directions, he asked, "Did you and your husband sign a prenuptial agreement?"

Elle leaned down and drew a sheaf of papers from her bag. Handing them across the desk, she said, "We did, and I took the liberty of bringing a copy for you with me."

Emmett accepted the papers. He glanced at them briefly before setting them on the desk. "I'll look these over more thoroughly later. I assume there's nothing out of the ordinary in them?"

Elle shook her head. "If I recall correctly, we each retain the assets we brought into the marriage, as well as any inheritances we may have received during the course of the marriage. All other assets were to be divided equally."

"That all sounds normal enough." He paused briefly, before asking as gently as possible, "Elle, why do you want a divorce?"

She frowned. "Do you have to know that? I was under the impression that Massachusetts offered no-fault divorces?"

"It does," he explained quickly, "But in order to obtain one, you and the Senator would need to separate for 18 months before a divorce could be granted. We can certainly go that route if you like, but it's not the most expedient method to obtaining a divorce."

"Oh," Elle said. Slowly, she asked, "What is the quickest way?"

"Adultery," Emmett answered. He saw her face tighten briefly. "In adultery cases there is no waiting period before a suit can be brought. Of course, a case in which adultery is charged is far messier, and potentially more harmful to your children, especially Booth and Evie."

A long uncomfortable silence lingered. Emmett stared at Elle, and Elle stared down at her wedding rings.

Finally, she looked up. "This stays between us, correct? Attorney client privilege and all that?"

Emmett nodded.

Elle took a deep, shuddering breath. Speaking very softly, she said, "For the past six months, my husband has been having an affair. It's not the first, and I'm certain it won't be the last, but I can't live with it any longer. I stayed, I helped him campaign, now I'm done."

She looked up and met Emmett's eyes. In them, she saw a mixture of pity, understanding, and to her surprise, respect.

Elle let out a sigh of relief. "It feels good to finally say that out loud. To finally tell someone."

Emmett smiled slightly, in what he hoped was a reassuring manner. "I'm glad I could help." He turned more serious. "Elle, I have to ask. Do you know with who?"

She laughed bitterly. "As a matter of fact, I do." She shook her head. "See, he didn't pick a random floozy this time. This time, he picked one of our closest friends." She paused. "Do I have to give you the name right now?"

"No," Emmett said. "That you know is enough, at least if you opt to go this route." He hesitated. "I really don't want to ask this, but it's relevant and it would come up in court. Have you and your husband been intimate since you learned of the affair?"

Elle stared. "Are you asking me what I think you're asking?"

Emmett coughed slightly. "I am. It's an awkward question, I know."

"How on earth is that relevant?" Elle questioned.

"In the eyes of the court," Emmett explained, "If you continue to live together and remain intimate, despite knowledge of an affair, you have essentially condoned the behavior."

Elle continued to stare incredulously. Finally, she dropped her gaze to her lap, and a flush broke out on her cheeks. She said softly, "Well, then the answer is no."

She kept her eyes on her lap, and missed the look of surprise and heat that flashed in Emmett's eyes.

He schooled his voice to a more neutral tone, and did his best to conceal any reaction his face might have betrayed. "Thank you for answering." Genuinely, he added, "I'm sorry I had to ask at all."

Still pink, Elle looked up and said, "No, I understand." She looked down at her watch. "Are we about done for now? I need to pick up my daughter from school and take her to her ballet class."

Emmett glanced at the clock. "Obviously there's more we'll need to discuss, but I think I've gotten most of the information I'd need to get started." He rose. "I'll examine the prenup to see what we're dealing with, then start mapping out potential strategies for you."

Elle stood as well. "Is there anything I should be doing in the meantime?"

"Think about what I said. Gather together all of your financial records." He placed his hand on the small of her back, and ushered her towards the door.

He walked her out to the reception are, and shook her hand, watching her rush off to what was left of her life.

Slowly he made his way back to his office. He sat down and stared at the spot where she'd been sitting only minutes before.

He caught the lingering scent of her perfume and inhaled deeply.

For the rest of the afternoon, he found it almost impossible to concentrate on anything else.


	3. Chapter 3

**Part 3: Might I venture your vacation plans can wait?**

"Excuse me, is this seat taken?"

Emmett looked back over his shoulder and stared. Standing behind him was one of the most beautiful women he'd ever seen. Trying to seem as disinterested as possible, he answered, "No, help yourself."

The woman slid onto the barstool next to his. She set her briefcase on the ground and her purse onto the bar in front of her before turning to Emmett. She extended her hand. "I'm Elle Woods, by the way."

Emmett returned the handshake. "Emmett Forrest."

Elle looked up and down the bar, searching for the bartender. Emmett did his best to not stare too obviously.

He'd long ago lost his fear of speaking to beautiful women; years of representing them in their divorces had cured him of any illusions he might have once harbored where they were concerned. He'd also dated more than a few of them, because money and manners generally meant more to women of 30 than they did to women at 22.

But beautiful women generally didn't approach him in bars. He slid a discreet look down at her left hand checking for rings. Seeing none, he glanced back towards his scotch, smiling slightly.

He raised his head, and she smiled over at him. "I'm never going to get the bartender's attention, am I?" She asked ruefully.

Emmett smiled back. "It might take awhile. An airport-closing snowstorm tends to send everyone running for the bars."

Elle laughed, a high and bright sound. "You're probably right," she agreed. "At least I found a seat. I figured it would be standing room only." She leaned an elbow on the bar and propped her chin up on her hand. Reaching into the bowl of peanuts in front of Emmett, she asked, "So what brings you to Chicago?"

"I'm headed to California for a conference." He popped a peanut into his mouth. "You?"

"I'm heading to New York," she answered. Spying the bartender nearing, she waved him over.

The bartender laid a napkin in front of her. "What'll it be?"

"A vodka martini, three olives, please," Elle requested. "And another of whatever my new friend Emmett is drinking."

Emmett started, "You don't have…"

She waved him off. "It's no big deal, I'm going to use my corporate credit card anyway."

The bartender looked annoyed. "Sir? What can I get you?"

"Scotch, please," Emmett requested.

The bartender nodded and moved away to fill their order.

Emmett looked at Elle. "Thank you. I'll get the next round, alright?"

"Seriously, it's nothing. But assuming we're here that long, absolutely."

Silently the bartender placed their drinks down in front of them. "Did you want to open a tab?"

Elle withdrew her wallet from her purse and pulled out a credit card. "Pay as we go, please," she said, handing the card to him.

They watched him process the card, and then Elle quickly signed the slip, and the bartender moved on.

Emmett turned to Elle. "So are you on a business trip?"

She took a quick sip of her martini and nodded.

He asked, "What kind of work do you do?"

Elle set her drink down. "I'm a buyer for Neiman Marcus. I'm headed to New York for Fashion Week." She picked her drink back up. "What do you do, Emmett?"

"I'm a lawyer." Seeing her face, he held up a hand to ward her off. "I know, I know. Scum of the earth and all that."

"Actually," Elle said, "I was going to say I almost married one once." She popped a peanut into her mouth. "What type of law do you practice?"

"Divorce and family law."

She arched an eyebrow, a hint of interest creeping into her voice. "Really? Are you any good?"

"I'm very good," Emmett said. He took a sip of his scotch. "Why, are you in the market?" He asked, gesturing towards her ringless hand.

Elle laughed. "Oh, no, not me. The lawyer I almost married?" She asked. "Well, I ended up friends with the woman he did marry, and they're on the verge of splitting up. Where do you live?"

"Boston."

"Now isn't that interesting," Elle murmured.

Curiously, Emmett asked, "What's that?"

"My friend lives in Boston." She took a quick sip of the martini. "So did I for awhile, actually." She laughed slightly. "Small world and all that."

"Really?"

Elle nodded.

"How long ago did you live there? And what were you doing in Boston?"

She twirled the sword in her drink idly. "My fiancé was a student at Harvard Law. I was working on my master's at Boston University in marketing." She lifted the sword to her lips and pulled off an olive. "I finished a year before he did, moved to New York to work for Michael Kors, and we broke up." She shrugged. "It's not a particularly interesting story."

"Oh, I don't know about that," Emmett mussed. He shot her a sidelong glance. "Harvard Law, huh? I was a teaching assistant there years ago. I wonder if he wasn't a student of mine."

Elle looked curious. "I wonder. His name is Warner Huntington. That ring any bells?"

Emmett thought for a moment. "You know, it does." Teasingly he added, "I wonder if we haven't met before. Wouldn't that be something?"

"It would," Elle agreed. She drained her glass. "I'm about ready for another drink, how about you?"

He quickly downed the rest of his drink. "I am now." Spying the bartender, he waved him over. "I'll have another, and what about you, Elle?" He asked, turning towards her slightly. "Another martini?"

She nodded.

"Thanks, that'll be all," Emmett said, and the bartender walked off to get their drinks.

Elle reached for her purse, but Emmett laid a hand on her wrist, stopping her. "This rounds on me, remember?" He reached into his jacket for his wallet.

Extracting a credit card, he waited for the bartender to place the drinks in front of them, then handed him the card.

Elle tilted her head. "Thank you for the drink." She looked around the bar. "It's starting to thin out some. Do you think flights are resuming or do you think people are giving up and checking themselves into hotels for the night?"

"Probably the latter." He checked his watch. "It is getting pretty late. Most airports are going to start closing soon."

"You know, we've been so busy talking about my life a million years ago that I never asked where you're headed."

"San Francisco, actually," Emmett answered. "There's a conference on the dissolution of same-sex marriages and civil unions."

"So this is a working trip for you?"

"For the first part anyway. Afterwards, my assistant has more or less ordered me to take a vacation. So I'm thinking about renting a car and driving around wine country."

"Your assistant has the ability to order you to take a vacation?" Elle asked dryly. "You must be close."

"She's been working with me since I set up my practice," Emmett explained. "I'd pretend that she doesn't actually run my life, but the reality is that she does." He shrugged. "Besides, she was right. I can't remember the last time I was out of the office for two weeks. I need to take a break, recharge."

"So you're in California for two weeks?" Elle asked.

He nodded. "I figure it's long enough for me to recharge, and short enough for me to not start going crazy from having nothing to do." He sipped his scotch. "How about you? How long are you in New York?"

"Just for the week. I'd like to stay longer, but I have to get back to LA." She paused. "It's strange, don't you think, that you're headed to my coast and I'm headed to yours, and we meet in the middle of the country?"

"It is," Emmett agreed. He shot a discreet sidelong glance her way. "What do you have to get back to LA for?"

"My friend Margot is getting married for the third time." Elle smiled. "I love her to death, but she lacks the ability to choose the right men. I have a bet going with my other sorority sisters. Personally, I give this one fourteen months."

"Betting on the shelf life of your friend's marriage?" Emmett asked lightly. "That doesn't seem very sporting."

"Oh, she knows about it," Elle assured him. "She knows how hopeless she is. She's just a hopeless romantic."

"What about you?"

"What about me, what?" She smiled broadly, and asked flirtatiously, "Emmett, are you trying to flirt with me?"

He laughed. "If you have to ask, I must not be doing a very good job," he said wryly. "But yes, are you a romantic?"

Elle considered. "I think I want to be a romantic," she explained. "I want to believe in happily ever afters, and a Mr. Right, and white picket fences. But back when I was much younger and far more foolish , I thought I'd found it." She shrugged. "I was wrong. And now I'm more jaded." She smiled. "What about you, Mr. Divorce Lawyer? Are you a romantic?"

"It would be hard to do my job and stay one," he said slowly. "But somewhere deep down, I think part of me still is. I still want to find that someone." He laughed again. "Of course, being a work-a-holic isn't really something that makes finding that something an easy task."

"I understand completely." Elle agreed. "I never thought I'd end up this married to my work, but love my job and wouldn't really want it any other way."

"Ah, a kindred spirit," Emmett said.

From overhead, the PA system crackled to life. "Attention passengers. We are pleased to announce that the weather has cleared enough for us to resume some of our normal flight schedule. Please proceed to the gate from which your flight was originally intended to depart from for status information. Thank you."

They looked at each other.

"I suppose that's our cue to get going," Emmett said regretfully.

"I suppose it is," Elle agreed, wistfully. She stood gathering her purse and briefcase together.

Emmett picked up his own briefcase.

For a moment, they just stared at each other. Then Emmett shook his head and withdrew his wallet from his jacket once more. "This isn't something I'd normally do," he explained as he pulled out a business card. "But I think I have to give you this." He presented the card to her with a flourish. "Keep it, don't keep it, give it to your friend, it's entirely up to you."

She accepted the card, laughing softly. She reached into her purse, and withdrew a business card of her own, handing it to him. "You beat me to the punch. I was just trying to come up with a way to give you one of mine."

They both smiled foolishly at each other for a moment.

Finally, Emmett said, "Well I suppose we should go see if we're stranded or not."

"You're right," Elle agreed. "So what do we do now, shake hands?"

"I think so," Emmett said, extending his right hand. Elle accepted, and they shook hands, neither wanting to let go first.

As they headed out of the bar, side by side, Elle said, "If I had to be snowed in, I'm very glad you were snowed in too."

"Likewise."

Outside the bar they paused once more.

"My gate's that way," Emmett said, pointing to the left.

"And mine's that way," Elle returned, pointing to the right.

They both laughed ruefully.

Elle smiled. "Well, I'll say it first then. Good-bye Emmett." She leaned forward and pressed a hasty kiss to his cheek before turning to walk away. She called back over her shoulder, "I'll be in California in a week. Be sure you call me, or I'll call you!"

With that, she disappeared into the throng of passengers.

Emmett stared after her for a moment, only being jolted into alertness by someone bumping into him from behind.

He sighed and shook his head, and joined the mass of people moving in the direction of his gate.

He fingered the card in his pocket and smiled as he too was swallowed into the faceless crowd.


	4. Chapter 4

**Part 4: Bruiser's Not a Dog, Bruiser's Family**

Emmett paused outside the door where his two o'clock meeting was scheduled to take place. He took a deep breath, mentally steeling himself for another meeting with everyone in the legal department's favorite student activist. Dealing with Enid was always an experience.

Somehow, when he'd been slaving away at Harvard, he'd never quite pictured winding up as a lawyer for UCLA, responsible for dealing with student activists.

He looked down at the notes he'd been given about Enid's cause this week. The question mark next to Enid's co-instigator's name stood out at him. Frowning, he thought about his attempts to gather any idea of what she was like.

Unlike Enid, this girl had no prior history of student activism, so none of the other lawyers in the administration office had ever dealt with her. The university-provided information of her major (fashion merchandising) and activities (president of a sorority) only confused him further. This girl was not Enid's normal associate, and Emmett wasn't really sure what he'd find on the other side of the door.

To say he was surprised by what he found would have been an understatement.

Enid was her normal self, with dark rimmed glasses, long unkempt hair, camo jacket, and t-shirt with her cause-of-the-week's slogan. But the person sitting next to her was most decidedly not the same.

The woman seated next to Enid was, for all intents and purposes, her polar opposite. Long, meticulously groomed blonde hair framed her face. She wore make up. And she was wearing a pale pink sweater set, making a stark contrast to Enid. To top it all off, the girl was beautiful.

Realizing he'd stopped in the doorway and was staring, Emmett shook his head, and walked to the conference table. "Good morning," he said. He reached across the table to shake Enid's hand. "Enid, always a pleasure to see you."

Enid returned the handshake. "Your turn in the rotation, eh, Emmett?" She asked cheekily. "I'm glad, you're so much more fun to deal with anyways."

"I'm flattered… I think," Emmett answered dryly. He turned to her companion. "I'm Emmett Forrest, and you are?" He asked, extending his hand in greeting.

The blonde woman extended a hand. "Elle Woods."

"It's very nice to meet you." Emmett seated himself opposite them. "So what are we here to talk about today?" He looked at Enid expectantly.

To his surprise, it was Elle that answered.

"Mr. Forrest, are you aware that the university has regular dealings with companies that have no policies against animal testing?"

Emmett blinked, and focused his attention on Elle. "First of all, please call me Emmett. Second of all, I can't say I was aware of that. Is there a company in particular that troubles you?"

Elle looked at Enid, who produced a piece of paper and slid it across the table to Emmett. "That's a list of companies whom the university allows on campus for various recruitment, sponsorship, or research purposes. Obviously, all of their involvement is troubling, but personally, the two that bother me most are Prima Cosmetics and Bella Apparel."

"Any reason those two stand out?" Emmett asked, scanning the rest of the list.

"I was a consumer of both brands before I made the discovery about their policies."

"Can I ask what exactly you'd like the administration to do about this?" Emmett glanced at Enid warily. This was usually the portion of these meetings where she erupted.

But again, it was Elle who answered. "We'd like the university to commit to denying these companies access to university facilities or resources for the purposes of recruitment or selling their products."

Emmett studied the women across from him for a long moment. This meeting was not turning out anything like what he'd expected. Enid passively sitting by and letting someone else do the talking, and a proposal that wasn't entirely unreasonable as a solution to a legitimate concern. Normally he was accused of being an agent of "the man" and a capitalist pig, but here he was being conversed with rationally.

He didn't know who this Elle Woods was, but he wanted her to be in all his Enid-meetings if they were going to go like this.

"Ladies, I'm sympathetic to your concerns. And I think you've presented a potential solution that I can easily take back to the administration. Thank you for that." He smiled at them. "Is there anything else you'd like to discuss?"

Enid opened her mouth to speak, but a look from Elle cut her off.

"No thank you, Emmett," Elle answered. "I'm sure you're a busy man, and we don't want to take up anymore of your time."

From beside her, Enid snorted.

Elle shot her another look. "Do we, Enid?"

As meekly as she was capable of, "No, we don't." Shifting her focus to Emmett, she added, "Thanks for meeting with us. Don't tell anyone I behaved myself, alright? I don't want it getting around. It'll ruin my reputation."

Emmett laughed. "I'll see what I can do about not besmirching your good name." He stood. Reaching across the table once more, he shook hands with them both, and said, "Enid, it's always a pleasure to see you. Elle, very nice to meet you. Come to more of these, alright? You're clearly a good influence."

Elle laughed herself. "Enid was just nice enough to let me tag along."

"Don't let her fool you Emmett," Enid interjected, "she's the one that brought this to my attention."

Elle blushed. "I just had an interest. Enid's the one who made this happen."

"Well, whatever the series of events, this has been the most productive meeting Enid and I have ever had, so thank you," Emmett said. He held open the door, and waited for the women to file out.

The group paused momentarily outside the door.

"Till next time, Enid." Emmett looked at Elle. "And I was serious before. I hope you're at more of these. I think you have a knack for this."

Elle smiled. "We'll see, I suppose. Good-bye Emmett." She tugged Enid down the hall.

Emmett watched them walk away. He smiled slightly, and turned to return to his office. He looked back down at the notes he'd brought with him, and at the question mark he'd placed next to Elle's name.

He still wasn't sure what to make of her, but now more than ever, he wanted an answer to that question. Who was Elle Woods?


	5. Chapter 5

**Part 5: Don't Go To Parties A Lot**

"I don't know why I let you drag me here," Emmett muttered. "I still have a lot of studying I need to do."

"Because even you cannot study or work 24 hours a day. Occasionally you need to get out," his friend Aaron explained patiently. "It's just a party. You'll go, you'll have fun, and you'll live to study another day. Now come on." Aaron pushed Emmett forward into the house.

Inside, a house party raged. Music blared from speakers scattered across the main room. The crowd seemed to be split between dancing and drinking, with more adventurous souls doing both at the same time.

"Let's go get a drink," Aaron shouted, in an attempt to be heard over the music.

Emmett nodded and started moving in the direction Aaron indicated. He knew he was going to need some alcohol to make it through this evening.

Back in the kitchen where the kegs were set up, it was slightly quieter. They both grabbed a plastic glass filled with beer. Emmett quickly chugged down half his glass.

"You might want to slow down, dude," Aaron advised. "It's not like you have any tolerance for booze."

"You wanted me to come, I came. You want me to say, I'm going to need to be a little fucked up." Emmett drained the rest of his glass. Throwing it in the trash, he quickly reached for another. "So now what?"

Aaron laughed. "It's a party, man. Are you so lame you don't remember what happens at those?" Seeing Emmett's blank stare, Aaron sighed loudly. "You drink, you dance, you talk to girls, and if you're really lucky you find one stupid enough to want to hook up with you." He cuffed Emmett on the shoulder. "Let's go check out the other room."

They wandered back into the main room, trying to stay out of the way of those that were dancing.

Emmett scanned the crowd, but didn't recognize anyone. "Who are all of these people?" Emmett asked Aaron. "I don't see anyone that I know."

"Mostly people from BC and BU!" Aaron shouted back. "I'm trying to get you laid, man, and all the girls we go to school with know how lame you are."

Emmett stared. "So you thought bring me somewhere where I know no one was going to up the chances of that? Thanks a lot man." He set his beer down on the nearest flat surface. "I'm out of here." He headed for the door, and was just about to open it, when it flew open and a beautiful blonde girl walked in.

"You weren't leaving, were you?" she asked, and Emmett darted his head around quickly seeing if she was talking to someone else.

Seeing no one, he stammered out, "No, I was just going to get some air."

"Good," the girl answered. "The party's just getting started." She smiled at him, and walked off with her friends.

Emmett stared after her. He quickly walked back to where Aaron still stood, prying him away from the girl he was hitting on. "Who is she?" Emmett demanded.

"Who is who?" Aaron asked, confusion written on his face. "And weren't you leaving?"

Emmett scanned the dance floor and pointed. "See that blonde girl in the bright pink top? Who is she?"

Aaron looked. "Her? Man, she is so out of your league. Pick someone else."

"Seriously, who is she?" Emmett pressed.

"Her name is Elle Woods."

"Where does she go?"

"Some fashion school, I think. But she has a boyfriend at Harvard and she's not your type at all." He tried to refocus Emmett's attention on someone else. "Now, see that girl over there? She's more your speed."

"Thanks for the tip." Emmett slapped Aaron on the back and wandered to the kitchen for another beer. Cup in hand, he walked back to the main room and found an empty spot along the wall. He leaned back, and searched the crowd for the blonde girl that had instantly captivated him.

She wasn't hard to spot. Even in a room full of pretty girls, she stood out. If one wanted to be cynical about why, it would be because of the color of her hair and the brightness of the top she wore. But another reason was because of how she moved. She seemed to be effortlessly unselfconscious as she danced to the music.

Emmett stared, trying to determine the best way to get a girl like that to even look at a guy like him.

To his mortification, she looked up and their eyes met.

She continued to move to the music as she held his gaze and smiled.

He bit back a gulp. This was not the normal type of reaction he got from girls, much less ones that had boyfriends and were prettier than he'd ever had any success speaking to. He tried to smile back, though he feared that it came off as more of a look of a crazy stalker type.

Her smile deepened, and she crooked a finger, gesturing towards herself.

His eyes darted around, certain now that she couldn't be smiling at him, despite the fact that she was still looking right at him.

She repeated the motion, more emphatically this time.

He shook his head vehemently. He might think this girl was beautiful, her smile might literally weaken his knees, but she was not going to be responsible for his public humiliation. Him dancing was not something that anyone should be subjected to, particularly a girl that he wanted to impress.

She shook her head, and leaned over to whisper something to one of her friends. The friend made a face and Elle laughed and broke away from the group. She began walking towards Emmett.

His eyes practically bugged out of his head. He'd imagined spending the rest of his evening watching her from afar, and maybe eventually having enough courage to say hello to her while at the keg, but never had he thought she'd approach him. He shook his head, and tried to ready himself to not babble. He knew it was going to be a losing battle, but he figured it was worth the effort.

She stopped next to him and leaned against the wall. "Hi," she said.

"Hi," he echoed.

"I'm Elle Woods."

"Emmett Forrest," he offered. Was he supposed to say more than that? He didn't know how to be around girls like this.

"You look pretty out of place," she observed. "Where do you go to school?"

"Harvard."

"Oh," she said. "I know people that go there."

"I would think," he said wryly. "All of the school's in Boston sort of bleed together."

She laughed. "Too true. So what are you doing here Emmett?"

He pointed in Aaron's direction. "See that guy, trying to flirt with the brunette in the blue shirt?"

She nodded.

"He's a friend of mine. He thinks I don't get out enough."

"Is he right?"

He shrugged. "Maybe."

She arched an eyebrow. "Only maybe?"

"Okay, he's right." He frowned. "But hey, what made you jump to that conclusion?"

"Well, for starters, you wouldn't dance with me, even though you'd been staring at me since the moment I walked into the house," she explained. "In fact, I'm pretty sure you were on your way out before we ran into each other.

"So because I wouldn't dance, I'm a shut in?"

"Not necessarily, but in my experience, guys who go out a lot are pretty much willing to do anything a girl wants at a party." She shrugged. "I could be wrong, but I go to a lot of parties."

"No, you're right," he admitted. "I don't go to a lot of these types of parties. Or any types of parties."

"Why not? Isn't that what college is about?"

He smiled. "Not when you're a partial scholarship student and you have to work for the rest of your tuition and living expenses."

"Oh. Well, that makes sense."

Curious, he asked, "So what are you doing in Boston? You're definitely not from around here."

"What gave it away?"

"The accent. No native talks like that."

"Ah. I suppose they don't," she said. "Followed a guy."

"What?"

"You asked why I'm here," she explained. "I followed my boyfriend here."

"And where is he tonight?"

"Probably at another party trying to pick up another girl."

He looked at her curiously. "Is that why you're standing here talking to me?"

She frowned. "No. I don't stoop to his level. You just seemed like a nice guy who was a little lost, so I thought I'd try to help you fit in." She pushed herself off the wall and took a step away. "But if you'd like, I can leave you alone and you can go back to staring at me."

His arm darted out to grab hers. "No, don't" he blurted out.

She turned back, laughter in her eyes. "Ah, so you like my company."

He shrugged nonchalantly. "It's something to do."

She just stared at him.

He gave in and laughed. "Fine, yes, I do. It's certainly been the highlight of what I expected to be a crappy party."

She smiled, and waggled her eyebrows at him. "No chance I can talk you into joining me on the dance floor?" She extended a hand. "Please?"

He shook his head. "No, no, no."

She pouted. "So that would be a no?"

"Do you value your toes?" he asked wryly. "If you do, you'd reconsider that invitation." He glanced down at his watch. He frowned. "I should get home, though. I have an 8 o'clock class tomorrow."

"On a Friday?" she questioned. Her nose wrinkled in disgust. "You are a workaholic, aren't you?"

"I'm afraid so." He straightened from his stance against the wall. "I'd offer to shake your hand, but this doesn't seem to be the occasion for it."

"Probably not," she agreed.

"So I'll just say it was nice to meet you. And that maybe I'll see you around again sometime." He started to walk away, but she grabbed his arm.

"Wait, do you have a cell phone?" she asked.

He nodded. "I do."

"Well, the pull it out," she ordered.

He shrugged, and pulled it out.

She grabbed it out of his hand and started programming a number into it. She reached into her back pocket and then punched a series of numbers, that he presumed were his phone number into her own phone. She handed the phone back. "There, now you have my number and I have yours. You will see me again."

"Why'd you want me to have your number?" he asked quizzically. "Don't you have a boyfriend?"

"I do," she nodded. "But I can always use a new friend. And you, Emmett Forrest, seem like you would make a great friend."

He laughed. "I see. Well, see you around then Elle Woods." With a final smile, he turned and walked towards the door. When he got there, he took a final look back, and saw Elle had returned to her spot on the dance floor with a gaggle of girls. Once more, their eyes met and held, and she gave him a little wave. He returned the gesture and walked out into the cold, Boston night.

Maybe parties weren't so bad after all.


End file.
